


Baby Mine

by VCCV



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-25
Updated: 2017-04-25
Packaged: 2018-10-24 02:17:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,018
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10732098
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VCCV/pseuds/VCCV
Summary: Rodney receives news from home. It isn’t good news.





	Baby Mine

**Author's Note:**

> Beta: sevfan and jameschick

Elizabeth closed her laptop and folded her hands together on top of it. “If there’s nothing further?” She raised a brow inquiringly. Heads shook all around the table, and Carson and Ronon had already pushed their chairs back when Caldwell gave a small grunt and pulled something out of his pocket.

“I almost forgot. Someone went to quite a bit of trouble to get this to you, Dr. McKay,” he said, pushing an envelope across the table to Rodney. “She left messages at every base you’d been at for the last five years. It was only when she hit Antarctica that someone thought to call the SGC about it.” John narrowed his eyes as he wondered on whom Rodney McKay left enough of an impression that she’d hunt him down to another galaxy.

Rodney gave a small smile. “Must be Jeannie. She’s almost as persistent as I am.” Snorts came from several directions, and Rodney shot a glare at the room in general. John allowed tension he hadn’t even known he’d accrued to seep back out of his form. Jeannie was a different story. Rodney tore into the envelope and pulled out a single sheet of paper and another envelope. Setting the second envelope aside, he unfolded the paper and quickly scanned it.

A frown washed over his face, the crease between his eyes growing deeper. John felt that tension rising again, and sat forward, as did Elizabeth. Carson eased back into his seat, and John wondered if Ronon was even aware that a frown from Rodney immediately sent Ronon's hand protectively to the butt of his weapon. “Rodney?” Elizabeth asked quietly. “Is it bad news?” Rodney ignored her, tossing down the paper and snatching up the envelope with now-shaking fingers. Teyla and Elizabeth exchanged worried looks.

Rodney ripped the envelope open and pulled out what looked to be a cutting out of a newspaper. As he read, his face lost color, and he swayed in his seat. “Rodney?” Elizabeth asked again. “What is it? Rodney?” In a surge of movement, Rodney was up out of his chair and headed for the exit. The doors had whooshed open and allowed Rodney out into the Control room before anyone else had managed to unseat themselves.

John thought they must look rather like the rats to Rodney’s Pied Piper as the group of them chased after the rapidly departing scientist. That didn’t stop him from overtaking Ronon for the position of lead rat. He’d almost jogged his way up to within arm’s reach, when Rodney came to a full and abrupt stop. John nearly skidded into him as Rodney dropped to his knees in front of one of the ten-thousand-year-old planters…and threw up every last thing he must have eaten in the past three days.

The absolute silence amplified the sound of Rodney’s heaves as every soul in the Control room stopped their task and stared in mortified awe. John stepped up cautiously and slowly extended his arm. “Buddy? You doing okay there?” When his hand made contact with Rodney’s back, Rodney flinched and jerked away. John pulled back, trying to ignore the pained twinge the rejection caused.

“I’m fine,” Rodney mumbled into the planter. “Fine. I’m…fine.” He pushed himself to his feet, his chin tucked into his chest and his eyes not making contact with anything but the floor. “I’m…you know, sorry about…” He gave a circular gesture to the planter, and wiped his mouth on his uniform sleeve. “I’m fine, though. Just…fine. I have to…to go. Somewhere. You know…to fix…um…things.” He scuttled backwards a bit before turning and bolting out of the Control room and down the hallway.

That was pretty much all John saw of Rodney for the rest of the week: the back of his jacket as disappeared elsewhere. He tried to lay in wait in the mess, knowing that Rodney had to show up sometims. Hypoglycemia was nothing if not John’s ace in the hole. Except…it wasn’t. He could only hope that Rodney had squirreled away MREs in his room, otherwise, he wasn’t eating at all. And that was just not acceptable.

He tried lurking in the labs, but Rodney had apparently taken on every task that had previously been put off due to 1) unavailability of scientific personnel, 2) lack of time, or 3) demeaning simplicity that no one would stoop to admitting was in their realm of worth. Radek had taken to giving him a sorrowful look each time John sauntered in and casually inquired as to the whereabouts of his personal geek. It made John’s skin twitch to know he was being so obvious, but there really wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it. The worry was seeping out of every pore.

He tried catching Rodney in his quarters, but even with the lifesigns detector, Rodney managed to evade John at every turn. Or, perhaps he simply didn’t return to his room at night. The bed was suspiciously never wrinkled. His toothbrush was never wet. There were never any towels lurking anywhere in the bathroom. Which led John to wonder just where the hell Rodney was sleeping. If Rodney was sleeping. And back to the not being acceptable.

After four days of Rodney-hunting, he was just about to tear his hair out. Or perhaps the hair of the next person who looked in sad understanding at him. Elizabeth had scheduled a senior staff meeting for 1400 that day, and John was damned if he was going to let Rodney just disappear afterwards. But, Rodney had figured out how to manage that one as well. Five minutes after the rest of the staff were seated, the doors whooshed open to reveal a rumpled Radek Zelenka.

He carried his laptop in one hand and an icepack in the other; an icepack that he pressed against an impressive lump on his skull; a lump that was turning colors already. He practically tossed the delicate laptop onto the desktop, and flung himself into a chair, glaring bloody murder at the gaping stares the others bestowed on him. “Rodney will not be at meeting,” he growled, lifting the icepack back to his head. “He says, and I quote ‘If you’re so eager to report appalling lack of progress this week, feel free.’” He sighed and slumped back into the chair. “Okay, that wasn’t actually quote. It was more of paraphrase. I left out profanities.” He sniffed. “And projectiles.”

John shoved back from the desk and stood up, leaning forward onto his knuckles. “Alright, this has gone on long enough. Where is he, Radek?”

Radek sighed. “I left him in lab. But, he was very angry. Very upset. He might be gone by now.”

“Then, I’ll just have to find him, won’t I?” John gave a tight smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

As it stood, John should have gone with his first instinct and just checked Rodney’s room before wandering over half the damn base. When he finally ended up at Rodney’s door, he could tell the other man was in there by the unwillingness of the door to simply open up for him. A small bit of encouragement, a gentle stroking of Atlantis’ ego, and a few well placed endearments, and the door to Rodney’s quarters opened up for him like a trembling virgin.

When he’d staked out the room before, it had just been empty. It had felt lonely. Now, John was struck by an almost palpable wave of sadness. The lights were dimmed a bit, but he had no trouble making out Rodney lying on his bed, one arm over his eyes, the other clutching what looked to be the newspaper clipping that started it all.

He knew Rodney was aware of his presence. He’d seen him tense at the sound of the door. And since Rodney made no move to acknowledge him, much less throw him out, John took his lack of complaint as acceptance, and moved to the bedside. He thought briefly about approaching this, as the Team Leader, or even just a buddy, but Rodney sucked in a tremulous breath and John could no more resist his desire to comfort, than he could have walked back out the door.

He eased down onto the bed, his weight on the mattress causing Rodney to roll slightly toward him, and stretched his arm over Rodney’s waist, resting his hand on the mattress on the other side of Rodney’s body. For long moments, they were motionless. John watched the steady rise and fall of Rodney’s chest and wondered just how much it would cost him if he were to rest his head on that wide chest for just a moment. Would it cost him Rodney’s friendship? He was willing to give damn near anything, but that was something he couldn’t offer away, even for a single moment of absolute bliss.

He could tell Rodney was beginning to relax. The slight pressure of his body against John’s side increased, and he felt Rodney’s legs twitch up a bit, as though he were contemplating curling around John entirely. Eventually, either relaxation took total hold, or Rodney just decided John wasn’t going to leave. He shifted onto his side and brought his legs up to bracket John’s back while leaning into John’s own legs with his chest. The hand that clutched the newspaper clipping edged back into view, and Rodney proffered it silently up to John. John rewarded this act of trust by bringing one hand over to gently rub Rodney’s back, even as he plucked the offending paper from Rodney’s hand to read.

 

_Six Killed, Six Injured in Botched Robbery  
A fast food robbery turned into a bloodbath of epic proportions when Jonas Brigham, aged 23, entered a local chain restaurant on 4th and Baines at approximately 4 p.m., Tuesday. Brigham’s intention was ‘an old fashioned hold-up’ states Police Chief Roger Stanton. However, after brandishing his 9 mm handgun and demanding the till be emptied, the purported surliness of the cashier changed his agenda. Brigham became enraged, ‘shouting threats and shooting the place up’ says restaurant employee, Neal Timm. At the time of the incident, there were nearly 20 customers in the establishment. Brigham’s first victim was cashier Annabelle Martin, aged 17; his next was an employee working in the lobby, 19-year-old Carlton Reeves. Brigham then turned the weapon on the crowd at large. He killed four more bystanders and injured six before off-duty officer Darin Flortin was able to subdue him. Brigham was taken into custody and is currently awaiting trial in the Belmont County Correctional Facility. A list of injured and killed is as follows:_

_Joseph Anderson, 27, injured, released.  
Terrance Gresham, 24, injured, in critical condition at Deaconess Memorial.  
Ada MacDonald, 8, injured, released.  
Kandace Rivers, 14, injured, stable condition at Deaconess Memorial.  
Donald Volgar, 67, injured, in critical condition at Deaconess Memorial.  
Denise Barker, 45, injured, released.  
Angeline Barker, 10, injured, released.  
Annabelle Martin, 17, pronounced dead on the scene.  
Carlton Reeves, 19, pronounced dead on the scene.  
Joan Treeburg, 35, pronounced dead upon arrival at Deaconess Memorial.  
Cassandra McKay, 15, pronounced dead on the scene.  
Gary Feldman, 43, died during surgery at Deaconess Memorial.  
Elaine Feldman, 41, pronounced dead upon arrival at Deaconess Memorial._

 

John frowned as he read the article. Death was horrible enough, but to be killed for nothing, for no purpose other than a moving target during some whacko’s mental breakdown, was inconceivable. When he’d read through the list of names, he did a double take. Did that say…? He reread. Cassandra McKay, 15, pronounced dead on the scene. Oh, hell, no.

“Rodney?” He managed a hesitant whisper.

“She was my daughter,” came the choked reply.

Oh, hell, no. He carefully set the clipping down on the bedside table and brought both arms into play, wrapping Rodney in hug that buried the grieving man’s head into John’s chest.

“I didn’t even know Katie was pregnant until she was seven months along.” The words were muffled, but John had no difficulty hearing the pain, the loss, the confusion in them.

“We lived together, John. We lived together, and I didn’t even know she was pregnant until she was seven months along.” Rodney laughed, a near sob, into John’s shirt. “She tried to tell me at three weeks. Apparently, I grunted ‘Good for you,’ and went back to work. She started throwing up at two months. I told her to go the doctor and get a shot or something before she gave it to me. At six months, I told her she was getting a bit chunky. Then…I took her desert out from under her and ate it, telling her it was for her own good.”

Rodney’s laugh no longer sounded like a laugh at all. It sounded like a man barely holding it together. Saying a fond farewell to propriety, John pushed him firmly over, further onto the bed, and then just climbed onto the bed with him. He tugged Rodney back against his chest as he tucked the wispy haired head under his own chin. And then, he just held on as Rodney slinked his arms around his chest and spilled out the rest of his pain.

“Seven months along, I got a call at the university. Katie was in the hospital. I panicked, but when I got there, her mother said she would be fine. That she just needed to stay on bed rest for a while. That the baby was fine, too. I asked her…” He choked, and had to pause for a moment. “I asked her, what baby? Her mother was the one that finally got through to me that my girlfriend was pregnant with my child. Then, her father punched me in the face and had security escort me out of the hospital.”

Rodney lay quietly again for long moments. John waited patiently, stroking Rodney’s back, gently nuzzling his cheek against the top of his head. And eventually, Rodney began again, his voice quieter, filled with shame, filled with regret. “When Katie was released, they took her home. I heard through the grapevine two months later that she’d had the baby. I went to see her. Her parents wanted to call the police, but Katie convinced them not to. She stepped out on the porch with me.

“I apologized. Profusely. Called myself seven kinds of stupid. I begged to see the baby. ‘Please, just let me see her,’ I begged. ‘She’s my daughter.’” His voice became tighter again, and John responded by tightening his own embrace. “Katie told me, ‘No. She’s the product of your genetic donation. She’s my daughter. And she was right. I knew that. Deep down, I knew that. I offered to pay child support. She told me no. That she wanted nothing to do with me or my money. I turned to go, then I stopped. I asked, ‘What are you going to tell her about me?’ She said, ‘Nothing. Nothing at all.’ She told me that, as far as she was concerned, she might as well have had artificial insemination.”

John could feel a warm wetness begin to seep through his shirt, and he had no idea who he should be angry with for it. Katie? No, she was only doing what was best for her daughter. Her parents? Possibly, but they too were only doing what they felt best for their own daughter. Rodney? Probably. But, feeling the hurt, the pain, the tears on his shirt, there was no way he could blame Rodney either. He’d been a stupid kid at the time. He’d tried to make things right, but it had been too little, too late. John was a seasoned veteran in that arena, and knew that Rodney was now punishing himself, had been punishing himself for years, for his mistake.

“I begged her to at least tell me her name,” Rodney continued hoarsely. “Katie said…she said her name was Cassandra Marie Capelli. Capelli, not McKay. And I said,” his voice cracked, “I said, ‘Oh, Cassandra Capelli. Nice alliteration.” The sobbing laughter was back. “I could have said anything, anything at that moment, and I chose ‘nice alliteration.’ Oh, god, John. I had the opportunity to fight for my daughter. But, I didn’t know what to say to change Katie’s mind. I didn’t know what to do. So, I did nothing. I didn’t fight her. I didn’t fight for my daughter. I just agreed to whatever she wanted.

“I couldn’t stop thinking about them, though. Funny how I didn’t think of them at all when they were living with me, but once they were gone, they were all I could focus on. So, I hacked into Katie’s bank account and deposited money. Every month, I deposited money. I don’t know what she did with it. She might have withdrawn it and burned it, for all I know. But, every month for the last fifteen years, she’s had that opportunity. I made sure of that. I made sure of that, at least.”

John wanted to say something. Anything. Anything at all to lift even a little of the pain from Rodney’s heart. He wanted to say that it looked like Katie might have had a change of heart; after all, the clipping had said Cassandra McKay, not Capelli. He wanted to say that she took the time to let him know the fate of their daughter, getting hold of him the only way she probably knew how…through his sister. He wanted to say something. Anything. But nothing could escape his throat, tightened up against his own threatening tears.

And so he said nothing. He just held on, giving strength the only way he knew how, hoping it was enough. Eventually, Rodney cried himself out and fell asleep on John’s chest. And though it warmed him inside to know that, in this, he had Rodney’s trust, it was a hollow victory, tempered with sadness as he lay staring at the ceiling long into the night, feeling Rodney’s tears slowly drying on his chest.


End file.
